Miss Granger up against the wall with Scabior
by Nathaniel Cardeu
Summary: Sometimes a wrong turn can lead to an interesting diversion…


Hermione pulled herself upright again, straightening her clothes and tying her ruined top together to cover her body. She gathered her torn knickers into her hand from the floor, as she sat in the filthy alleyway, alone once more. She drew a deep, shuddering breath, trying to slow her galloping heartbeat. She could feel his release, trickling from her abused body as she used the wall of the narrow alley to regain her feet.

Gradually, her hearing started to return, the blood that roared in her ears subsiding, slowly. She could hear the whispers of witches and wizards conducting their secret business nearby, ignoring the events in the alley, though all of them must have heard it. This section of Knockturn Alley was always dark and forbidding and she shouldn't have come here at all. She should have been more alert.

Throwing the torn scraps of her underwear into her bag, she plucked her shopping from the filthy cobbles, brushing the dirt from her skirt and Ron's recently purchased work robes. He would be wondering where she had gone, expecting her to have followed him through the Floo within a few minutes. Well, she thought to herself, a little worry would have done him some good, considering the way he had been acting recently.

She suddenly became aware of a shadow, blocking the light from the alley. He was back and slowly advancing upon her. Swallowing, Hermione involuntarily backed away from him. His form filled the alleyway and there was no-where to run to. She could see the scarf around his neck still and could imagine the light in his eyes, the intent. Much like she had seen and felt it, not five minutes ago.

* * *

Ron stormed out of the shop, heading for the Floo at the end of Diagon Alley. His face was flushed and angry, his ears pink as he almost flounced away. Hermione sprang out of the shop after him, her arms laden with her shopping. "Ron!" she shouted after his retreating figure. "Ron, come back!"

"Miss Granger?" called Madam Malkin from inside the shop. "Is everything okay, dear?"

Hermione growled something under her breath, a fervent wish that something involving Blast-Ended Skrewts, Ron's backside and a Permanent Sticking Charm, happened to her boyfriend in the very near future. "I'm fine Madam Malkin," she said, her voice light and airy as she turned and re-entered the shop. "I was just wishing my boyfriend a pleasant trip home."

"Hmm, yes dear," said the dark-haired witch as she put away her measuring tape and scissors. "Though, I do believe, Mr Weasley may have taken your comments a little personally. He was quite taken with the colour, after all."

Hermione could see that Madam Malkin was avoiding her eyes, indeed, she was trying to avoid looking at Hermione at all. Hesitantly she said, "Was I a bit too blunt, do you think?"

She was surprised when Madam Malkin turned to look at her, mischief and laughter sparkling in her eyes. "My dear girl, you told that boy right. Mr Weasley's complexion and colouring… and that material? No." She waved her hands, laughter entering her voice now. "No, my dear, you told him right. But saying he looked like a Grundelow in a frock, may not have been the most tactful comment."

Hermione bit her lip, in consternation at first but, seeing Madam Malkin's smile, she couldn't stop a small laugh from escaping her. Their laughter grew, each encouraged by the other till both women were shrieking with it. Passers-by stopped and looked, wondering what was going on, before moving on hurriedly. Hermione's sides ached as she leant on the counter, holding herself up. Oh Merlin, it felt good to laugh. Everything was so serious with Ron at the moment; his race against Harry for the promotion, his desire for children, to get married. There was no time for them to sit back and laugh anymore, to enjoy each other. Gathering her purchases she said goodbye to a still chuckling Madam Malkin and left, heading for the Floo and her very serious home.

And that, of course led to another thing. Their sex life was just as serious. Planned and scheduled like a day at the Ministry; first five minutes – foreplay, then a few minutes of gentle intercourse which, whilst not unpleasant, was starting to get a little bland. Things always picked up towards the end as Ron began to lose control but it was never raw and passionate. Sometimes she just wanted him to tear her clothes off, push her up against the wall and… well, act like he really wanted her, take her, ravish her body in positions they had never tried before. Which, to be honest, would be everything but him on top of her.

Her mind played with those thoughts as she walked though she found she had trouble keeping her partner in one form. Ron kept disappearing and different wizards took his place; Neville, Harry, Seamus, Draco – all of them taking her in various ways, manhandling her and making her moan as sweat poured from her body and… where in the name of Merlin's beard was she now?

Caught up in her daydreaming, she had lost track of where she had been walking. She had missed the Floo and carried on travelling, lost in thoughts of Seamus Finnigan putting his hands all over her… well, enough of that. She realised where she was now and knew that she needed to leave. She had stumbled into Knockturn Alley and the seedy shop fronts around her displayed foul and horrible artefacts; poisonous candles, shrunken head charms and the like. A dark alley loomed beside her, its black mouth yawning wide, seeming to want to snatch her up.

Then there was a figure in the darkness, a tall, vaguely familiar figure. Before she could move or cry out the man lunged from the shadows, wrapped an arm around her waist and clamped his free hand across her mouth. With a startled squawk she was pulled into the darkness.

"'ello beautiful," the man whispered, the stubble on his chin scraping against the soft skin of her neck. He held her tightly, pressed against his body and she could feel his hard muscles flexing as she struggled, her purchases falling from her hands to the cobbles below. Her breathing quickened as he pressed her, face first, against the cool stones of the alley and quickly confiscated her wand. "Don't want no accidents now, do we?" he muttered, his breath washing over her ear and making her heart skip.

His accent was so familiar, a London tone but, strangely, it made her think of trees and running, fear and capture. And then she knew who the man was. Knew where she had heard that accent before. He spun her round suddenly, face to face with him in the gloom, pushing her back against the wall and leaning close. His hands gripped her arms, just above the elbow, his body pressing against hers now.

"Reckon you owe me. Didn't get anything out of ol' Mr Malfoy, a few years back. Especially as you and your friends up an' scarpered an' all." His nose pressed into the crook of her neck, and his breath tickled along her collar bone as he sucked in a great lungful of her scent.

Hermione's knees weakened and she let out a moan as goose bumps pebbled her flesh. She was so scared and yet so turned on right now.

"That perfume of yours has been bothering my equilibrium all this time, you know? I can't get it off my mind. Makes it hard to sleep at night, the thought of you and your… scent." He pressed his mouth below her ear and Hermione growled, low in her throat. He chuckled and her body tightened and pulsed in time with his laughter. "Well, well, well. Horny little witch, ain't ya? What's the matter? Not getting enough at home? I'm reckoning, ol' Scabior can give you a little of what yer missing, eh? You bet I can, sweetheart."

She couldn't speak. Her throat had closed up in fear at what he was suggesting, and a surge of lust at what he was offering her. His hair was longer than it had been all those years ago, tied in a tail now that hung to his shoulders. His clothes were still a little shabby, much like the man himself but there was such a crackling, sparking tension flickering through her body she could barely concentrate on minor details like that. All she could hear was his offer. She wanted to say no. She wanted to strike out with her knee and run. She wanted him to stop talking and take her, roughly, against this wall.

She found her voice at last as he continued to breathe in her perfume, stroking his thumbs across her tense arms. "All that time snatching and you don't know when to just shut up and grab what you're after?" she whispered, breathily.

Her body was afire with need, her knickers felt uncomfortably tight and she could feel her pussy pulsing in time with her rapid heartbeat. She knew that she was wet, could feel the heat trickling from her. She was amazed at its intensity; she had never been this desperate with anyone else and with this man, of all people.

So focussed on her desperate pussy, Hermione hadn't noticed Scabior moving. His hands had slipped under her skirt and gripped the waist band of her knickers. With a sudden tug they ripped apart and the rush of cold air, ghosting across her swollen lips, made Hermione moan. They froze that way for an eternal moment, their eyes locked together; both acknowledging what was coming next.

Then, just as suddenly, his mouth found her throat, he had lifted one of her legs and a thick finger was slipped, deep inside her. The sudden feeling of intense pleasure ripped through her body and she tangled her hands in his hair, pressing herself against him. She moaned as his thumb pressed against her sensitive clit, a second finger joining the first and sliding in and out of her eager slit.

His mouth pulled at her throat and his teeth nipped at her flesh, eliciting cries of mingled pain and pleasure from the witch. She was rapidly losing any coherent thought as her hand stroked down Scabior's body and slipped into his trousers, rapidly finding his hard cock and gripping it tightly. As she began to stroke his length in a regular rhythm, she felt him give a shuddering breath and a moan that set her skin on fire. His fingers continued to press against her sensitive flesh and she could feel her orgasm building already; it had been far too long since she had been filled with this level of passion.

His free hand undid the ties securing his trousers and Hermione quickly pushed them down his thighs, finally able to see his cock, hard and ready. Her mouth hung open, breathing heavily as his fingers slipped out of her soaking wet pussy.

Releasing him she lifted her hands above her head, gripping the brickwork. Scabior pushed forward, pressing against her body and she lifted one leg and wrapped it around his waist. A rough hand gripped her one of her breasts through her top, the other lifting her from the ground.

As Hermione clung to Scabior's waist with her thighs she felt him slide into her. A shuddering cry erupted from her throat as his length seemed to fill her completely. Scabior was pushing her into the wall with ruthless abandon, her hips and backside bashing against the bricks again and again. Each thrust touched areas deep inside her and drew out a gasp of air. Her shoulders scraped against the rough brick, more pain and sharp strings in her flesh

Scabior's hands ripped her top in half, rough hands pulling her bra down to attack her darkened nipples. His finger pinched and pulled and Hermione could feel her head swimming with the delightful combination of danger and sexual abandon. This man was dangerous; Hermione knew this in her heart. But all she could focus on right now was that she was getting the shag of her life against a dirty brick wall in Knockturn Alley, on a dreary Thursday afternoon – and she was loving every second of it.

"Oh, mmm, yes," she gasped, as Scabior increased in speed. "Yes, come on… fuck me… oh, oh…" She devolved into wordless growls as the feeling reached fever pitch. She saw sparks, flickering in the gloom of the alleyway and Scabior's tongue plunged into her mouth, attacking hers. The two tongues fought for dominance, sliding and slithering over each other, their owners moaning louder.

Suddenly, the dam broke within Hermione and the pressure that had been building in her groin became a roaring torrent of pleasure. With an ululating cry, Hermione felt her pussy contract and spasm around Scabior's hard cock as her orgasm flooded her senses. Her vision darkened and her eyelids fluttered as wave after wave of feeling rocked her from head to toe.

She barely noticed as Scabior's thrusts began to slow, so intense was her orgasm. Sweat dripped from her body and her chest heaved as she took huge gulps of air, trying to slow her racing heart. She felt a moment of disappointment as she felt him slip out of her and lower her feet to the floor again. She leant back against the wall, slightly unsteady on her feet, a small smile on her lips. She savoured the lingering pleasure from her orgasm.

Looking up she saw a wicked gleam in his eyes.

"Oh, don't you go thinking I'm done with you yet, beautiful," he said, gripping her shoulders and spinning her round. Pressing her against the wall, he pulled her hips towards him, making her lean forward. Her face was pushed against the cold brick as a warming liquid from his wand lubricated the valley between her buttocks. She felt the slick head of his cock press against her tight, puckered hole.

She began to struggle then, fear stabbing through her, not wanting this. This was too much! She had never done this!

Scabior held her steady, firmly, one hand gripping her hips and the other tangled painfully in her hair. "Easy now, sweetness. This'll be a lot more enjoyable if you just relax into it," he muttered, pushing her face against the wall harder now, her hands slithering over the bricks and trying to gain enough leverage to push away. His cock pressed harder against her clenched entrance and she could feel an incredible pressure, more intense than anything else. His hand moved, fingers sliding around her hips to delving forward, plunging into her pussy once more.

The pressure built incredibly as Scabior pushed forwards, sliding past her tight muscles, slowly, oh so slowly and gradually. Hermione gave out a cry of pain at the intrusion, trying to fight against the man's superior strength. Her cheek scraped against the brick, drawing blood as Scabior slid fully into her unwilling hole. Hermione felt tears of pain stab at the corners of her eyes as her body tried to adjust to this intrusion. She cried out in fear, waiting for him to pound into her like he had before, expecting the pain to rip through her body.

But, once he was fully seated within her, he paused. Holding her firmly but waiting.

"That's right," he crooned, softly. "Ol' Scabior's gonna teach you somethin' new, my darlin'"

Hermione moved her hands, bracing her arms against the wall as she felt a gentle pleasure begin to override the pain. Scabior's fingers were gently sliding against the wet folds of her pussy and the tender pleasure began to override her fear. But she was still afraid to let this go on.

"Please," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "Please, Scabior. I don't want to do this. Please, I've never… oh, fuck!" Her voice rose to a cry as Scabior's cock slid within her, almost all the way out before sliding slowly forwards again. His fingers found her clit, framing it and massaging the flesh around it gently as he slid in and out again.

"No… Scabior… I… please…" Her voice faltered as she began to feel a different pleasure, an unforeseen pleasure altogether. The combination of Scabior's fingers stroking her clit and his hard cock in her arse was causing her blood to surge again and her words slurred slightly as the feeling overwhelmed her.

"Tell me you want me to stop, princess," Scabior whispered, another slow thrust eliciting a groan from Hermione. "You tell me to stop now… oh, Merlin you feel so fuckin' good… tell me to stop and I will."

Hermione moaned loudly at another thrust. "No… please, I want… no, don't… oh fuck…"

Scabior began to move regularly now, sliding slowly and steadily back and forth, back and forth.

Hermione continued to moan, unsure of where she was anymore. "I… mmm, yes… oh, please… don't…"

"Don't what?" Scabior whispered, his hand releasing Hermione's hair, watching as she leant her forehead against the wall. Her arms pressed against the brick and he smiled as he felt her push against him, inviting him now. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked, pulling back a little, hearing her moan, and recognising the disappointment in it. "Just say, 'Scabior, please stop fucking my beautiful, tight, little arse'. Your wish will be my command."

"Yes, please… mmm, nnh…no, don't stop… oh, please don't stop… mmm, yes, faster!"

"Your wish is my command, beautiful."

Hermione's cries began to increase as Scabior's hands both moved to reach around her hips, fingers stroking across her clit and pussy lips. His hands gripped the flesh of her thighs and pulled her against him, beginning to thrust faster now. Her tight muscles gripped his cock, massaging him almost, with each thrust. She was meeting him with each push now, arching back from the wall to deepen each thrust.

Scabior began to feel his own pressure building, his balls tightening in readiness. His hands ruthlessly manipulated the tender flesh of her pussy, his fingers slick with her juices. Her cries became more urgent, more animalistic and he felt her tense abruptly, muscles contracting around his cock, squeezing him fantastically as she came again. Her back arched and her fingers splayed against the bricks, her cries echoing in the narrow alley.

It was too much, the pressure on his cock, the incredible sight of Hermione's skin, slick with sweat and trembling with her orgasm. With a roar Scabior came; he thrust deep inside her, feeling his balls contract and his cock pulse as he filled her beautiful, tight arse with his seed. Throbbing and twitching inside her he shot load after load inside her, feeling the pressure drain slowly with each spurt.

He continued to thrust, gently now, feeling Hermione squeezing him, milking the last drops from him. He could see her breathing was heavy and ragged, her legs trembling. The only things holding her up were his hands on her hips.

Reaching forward he gripped Hermione's hair and pulled her upright sharply, hearing her squeal of shock. He took a deep breath; his nose pressed against her throat, feeling the large artery in her neck fluttering wildly against his nose, the scent of her sweat and their combined juices, mingled with that intoxicating perfume of hers.

He knew that he might never get that smell from his mind.

Stepping back, his diminishing cock slipping out of her abused arse, he released her hair. With no support, she staggered towards the wall again before slipping and dropping in an ungainly heap on the floor, gasping for breath.

Without a word he tidied himself up, redid the ties on his trousers and walked away, disappearing into Knockturn Alley.

* * *

But now he was back again and Hermione was once more afraid. The full reality of what had just happened was crashing around inside her head. She didn't know what had possessed her but she knew she had to fight him this time, she had to be stronger. Her legs still trembled and she knew that she couldn't run but she could do something.

But then he was before her and all she could do was stare up at him, unable to think straight.

They stood that way for some time, Hermione breathing heavily in fear and Scabior just gazing into her eyes. Slowly he drew a wand from his pocket.

"I may take what I want, beautiful," he said, stroking the tip of the wand along her jaw. "But I'm not a thief." He placed the wand in her hand, gently closing her fingers around it. "If you ever want to find me again…" He smiled, his hand caressing her cheek as he breathed in another lungful of her scent. "I believe you have yer own spells for that sort of thing." Turning on his heel he walked swiftly away, vanishing into the throng.

Hermoine stood there for a while, her heart finally slowing to a gallop. Her mind was racing, like she had once run through the forest to escape that man – the one who had just captured her again. This time, though, she thought he may have captured more than her body.

"Point me," she whispered. The wand in her hand, her own wand, spun and twisted; the point flicked towards the alley entrance and steadied. Looking up, Hermione watched Scabior saunter past the alley mouth once more, casting a confident smile her way before disappearing, walking deeper into Knockturn Alley. Looking down at her hand she watched the wand tip follow the man that her eyes could no longer see and she smiled softly.

She knew that she would see him again.

It appeared that he had snatched her heart.

* * *

A/N: This is an old fic that I, strangely, hadn't posted here before (probably something to do with rules and stuff...). Anyway, here it is and always know that I have more posted on my AO3 account (mainly because it's an easier interface for me to work with!).

Also feel free to join my writer profile group on FB (Writing, Music, Weirdness: The Nathaniel Cardeu Story) where I post nonsense, chat about upcoming stories and projects, and generally have a laugh. Hope to see you there x


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